Not Alone
by NCIS Obsession
Summary: Delving into Tony's thoughts during the scene at the end of "Shiva" in season 10. TIVA. Thanks to @ohnoitsmycircus on Tumblr for the prompt!


**Alright, people. I'm finally getting around to uploading another fic I wrote over Spring Break. You can probably expect a few more, either today or in the next few days. I posted these on Tumblr already ( television-overload) but I'm trying to write more of my story "In the Eyes of Tali," and just haven't been motivated. I'm hoping reviews from these stories give me that push I need. I'm sorry I haven't updated that story in a long while. I've been sucked deep into a full-scale Tiva rewatch of the show, and have been obsessing over theories for Season 16. Once again, check out my Tumblr if you want to see that madness.**

**For now, though, special thanks to ohnoitsmycircus on Tumblr for this prompt. It's basically delving into Tony's mind during a certain scene. Tag to "Shiva" in Season 10. Enjoy!**

Ziva needed him. Now, he couldn't say that very often. Ziva was a strong, very independent woman who was capable of handling herself. He knew that, and she would often remind him. Even now, as she dealt with the loss of her father, she insisted she didn't need his help. But he knew better.

Seven years ago, he may have been fooled. Her "I'm fine" may have gone over his head. But he had known her for 7 years now. Her emotions, while well hidden, could not get past him anymore. And she was hurting. Bad.

She was his partner. But more than that, she was his best friend, and he would not let her suffer through this alone, no matter how much she pushed him away.

That was why he had been teaching himself Hebrew for the last week or so. He had picked up some of the basics just by working closely with Ziva over the years, but as she sobbed into the coat of her dead father while uttering a prayer in her native tongue, he knew he needed to learn more. Maybe then she would understand how much she meant to him. How much he wanted to help.

This wasn't pity, or simply a friendly gesture. This was proof of how deeply he cared for her.

Learning a language was hard. Lucky for Tony, he was a quick learner and had previously studied other languages. He made progress quickly. Thank goodness for the internet.

When Shmeil and Ziva had stayed at his apartment, he had been able to ask Shmeil about his day entirely in Hebrew, with minor errors. Shmeil had been quite impressed, and when he asked why Tony was learning, he didn't seem to buy Tony's excuse that he was bored and just wanted to learn a new language.

Now Ziva was leaving. At least when she was with him, he could keep an eye on her and pull her out from any dark places she buried herself in with her sorrow. She could talk to him, at least he liked to think she could. They had come a long way in the last year. They had a special connection that allowed themselves to be open and real with each other. Goodness knows Ziva needed that. Tony too.

He seriously considered going with Ziva to her father's funeral, but knew Gibbs wouldn't let that happen. They had cases to solve and a backstabbing murderer to track down. No one hurts Tony's...best friend, and gets away with it.

But what if Ziva needed him while she was gone? Sure, she could call him, but would she? No, not Ziva. Tony wasn't sure if there was even a situation on Earth bad enough to make Ziva swallow her pride and call for help, or just someone to talk to.

Tony was sitting on his couch at home when Shmeil called. He had to admit, that man was impossible to hate. "I thought you might want to know that Ziva's plane is leaving in an hour," he said.

Tony bit back his automatic response of 'Why would I need to know that?' because he knew it wouldn't fool the old man. Instead, he thanked him and hung up the phone.

Hastily, he grabbed a plain tote bag and tossed some gum and a couple magazines in, including a certain copy of GSM that he hoped might bring a small smile to his partner's face. If nothing else, this would be his excuse for going to the airport to see Ziva. He also scribbled a note and stuck it between the pages of a magazine, signing it with a little smiley face.

'_We'll talk when you get back,'_

_-Your Little Hairy Butt :)_

Trying not to think too much about the implications of that message, lest he change his mind, Tony grabbed his keys and phone and left his apartment for the airport.

When he arrived, Ziva was talking to Shmeil, who saw Tony approaching and gave him a tiny nod of approval. He waited patiently for Ziva to finish talking to him. As she turned around, she came face to face with Tony. This was one of those rare times when the situation warranted the invasion of traditional personal space between coworkers. Heck, even between friends.

She had to know how serious Tony was about all this. So he stepped closer, close enough to see the unshed tears in her eyes, the dark circles that indicated lack of sleep. He resisted reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders. She had made it clear how much she hated the classic methods of comfort in mourning, and he did not want to upset her right before she left to go halfway across the world.

"You did not have to come," Ziva said, her lips pursed tightly together.

Ziva had never understood the extent of the things Tony was willing to do for her. This was nothing compared to getting imprisoned by a terrorist in Somalia to avenge her, and she had said something similar then, too. "You should not have come."

"Well, you always forget your gum and magazines when you fly," Tony joked, though his expression remained solemn. It was a drastic change from his usual comical demeanor. Ziva was one of the few that got to see this serious side of Tony. When he removed his mask of goofiness, he was a sincere, caring, deeply thoughtful person that was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for.

Ziva didn't even crack a smile at his comment, not that he was expecting her to. "We'll find Bodnar, Ziva," he assured, dropping the comedian act entirely. This was his time to show his support. To remind her of how many people care for her. "Mossad's looking, CIA, Navy Intel, Interpol…" his eyes locked onto hers, ensuring that she heard the last and arguably most important part of what he came here to say. "Us," he finished with a small nod.

Yes, they were looking for Bodnar. And they would find him if it was the last thing they did. He had hurt one of their own, and Tony understood better than anyone what Ziva was really feeling. He needed her to know that she was not on her own in getting justice for her father.

"Shmeil's got your back," he added with a tiny smile, "Shmeil, the Man of Steel." His eyes softened as Ziva clearly fought back tears, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms and protect her from any more hurt and pain.

"Don't do this," he said with a sigh. One last plea to keep her from going somewhere where he can't be by her side, helping her through her grief. She had dealt with so much loss with no one there to comfort her. If the tears were any indication, she had hit her limit.

"I am going to a funeral, Tony," Ziva stated simply, confidently, though that confidence was clearly fragile and near breaking. "I am delivering my father's eulogy."

Tony knew it was a long shot. There wasn't anything he could do to stop her.

"How's this for an opening line?" he asked. Maybe this would stick in her head and remind her of those who love her back home in D.C. while she was in Israel. "_He did it his way_." Over the years, Tony had dealt with Ziva's father several times. He was difficult, stubborn, and an absolutely terrible father (which was saying something, because Tony's father was no dad-of-the-year himself). But Ziva loved him, in the end. Once you gained Ziva's love, there was no losing it—that much was clear. In that regard, Tony envied Eli David. How could someone so unworthy receive the love of someone as special as Ziva?

But because she loved her father, Tony was there for her. He may not have been a good man, but Tony had to respect him for the wonderful daughter he had raised. And Tony, like Ziva, was able to look past some of his less redeeming qualities and see the father that had loved his daughter.

"My father was a…not an easy man to understand, yet…" Ziva explained, a sad smile lacing her features.

"Complicated runs in the family," Tony added, his eyebrows raising. Now was not the time to talk about _their _complicated relationship, but at least he had somewhat acknowledged it for what it was. Ziva seemed to know what he meant. That was one of the things Tony hoped to finally discuss once she got back and they finally started moving forward again.

Ziva seemed to struggle with what to say next, but Tony waited patiently for her to speak. They were having one of those rare moments where they were being totally open, he didn't want her to shut down again. "Tony, I—"

Her eyes bounced nervously from Tony's face to his lips and to the world around them, hardly able to hold contact with anything for more than a second. Tony held his breath as he waited for her to continue. There were so many ways she could end that sentence; it was foolish to hope for the one that he most longed to hear.

It became clear that she would not finish whatever she was going to say, and Tony's heart sunk. "What?" he asked, urging her to continue. The tears were pooling in her eyes again, and Tony wanted more than anything to wipe them away. She _needed_ him there, to be a shoulder to cry on, why could she not see that? Why couldn't she let him help her? Her lip trembled, causing Tony's heart to break for her.

All of a sudden, she reached up and wrapped Tony in a tight hug, her arms clinging desperately around his neck. She buried her head into the crook of his neck, and he responded in kind, wrapping his arms protectively around her back. He got his wish. If only he could keep her there in his arms until this whole mess with Bodnar was over.

His hand rubbed comforting circles on the small of her back, adjusting to hold her tighter to him. He reveled in the feeling of her, the smell of her shampoo, her soft skin dampened by her tears.

Now or never.

Tony racked his brain for what to say to her, but nothing seemed sufficient. What could he say to communicate the thousands of things he wanted to tell her, needed her to know before leaving?

Then a simple phrase he had learned recently came to mind. It wasn't the three little words he really wished he could say to her, but he hoped it got the message across.

With his voice soft and gentle, he breathed into her ear the words "Aht lo levad," spoken in broken Hebrew. You are not alone.

A wave of relief washed over him as the words left his mouth. He had done what he came here to do, said what he wanted to say. He felt Ziva smile, and he resisted the urge to place a kiss on her cheek as she pulled away, her hand trailing down his chest as they broke contact.

The look she gave him would be forever ingrained in his memory, a tear tracing its way down her cheek.

After a moment's pause, Ziva finally spoke. "I know," she managed to choke out before turning away and walking toward the awaiting plane.

Tony watched her leave, hoping that it would be enough. Hoping beyond all hope that Ziva understood what he meant, and that she would come home soon.

_Aht lo levad._

_You are not alone._

_Please don't forget that._

-.-.-

**I really loved writing this one. This has to be one of my favorite Tiva scenes. **

**I hope you enjoyed the story! Us writers literally thrive off of reviews, so I would really appreciate one if you get the chance. Send those creative writing vibes my way. Now that we're on a mini-hiatus from the show, hopefully I can calm my fangirl brain long enough to write something. Then again, finals are coming up. Oh, who am I kidding. Procrastination is the perfect motivator for fanfic writing.**

**Again, thanks for stopping by! Be on the lookout for more fics soon!**

**~NCIS Obsession**


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